


Count Your Blessings

by vjs2259



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-20
Updated: 2008-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vjs2259/pseuds/vjs2259
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post Objects at Rest, Tuzanoor, Minbar, 2263</p>
<p>John prepares for a new arrival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Count Your Blessings

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer applies; not my characters or settings or backgrounds. But they are my words.

 

John Sheridan was awake. It was three o'clock in the morning, or its Minbari equivalent, and he lay on his tilted bed, staring at the ceiling. Not wanting to move and disturb his sleeping wife, he patiently let his thoughts wander, hoping sleep would follow. With a wry smile, he acknowledged to himself that there was little hope of that. He was often wakeful these days, finding it difficult to concentrate, knowing that shortly his life would take another major turn. He was familiar with drastic change. It had happened enough in his life. The loss of Anna, along with battles and wars, betrayals and death itself; all had taken his life in new and unexpected directions. This was different.

Delenn stirred and moaned softly as she sought a comfortable position. Her head was resting on his chest, with one arm flung across him, but she could no longer press up against his body as she normally did. Her swollen abdomen lay between them, and he could feel its weight and warmth, full of promise, against his hip. She had taken to wearing a sleeveless, knee-length undershift to bed. It was large enough to cover her and loose enough for ease of movement. Now it clung to her, the white silk tangled in and around her legs. Shifting slightly, trying to help her find a better position, he felt her wet hair and the damp cool, skin of her face against his chest. She’d been running a low grade fever for weeks, and it often broke in the middle of the night. The healers said her body was staging a weak last minute attempt to reject the baby. They’d had serious trouble early in the pregnancy, and overcome it, but this last problem had drained her strength alarmingly. He reached across with his free arm and pulled the sheets up over top of her, trying to stave off the chills that usually followed the fever.

One thing keeping him awake was the fact that the circulation in his arm was cut off. Still, he’d much rather endure the discomfort than disturb her slumber. He looked down at her peaceful face, and felt a surge of warm protectiveness unlike anything he had ever known. They had been through so much, both together and apart; risked their lives a dozen times, but this was something larger, something deeper. It wasn’t just that there would be three of them soon, although that thought was joyful enough. It was that the future lay stretched out in front of him again. He’d accepted his limited life span, and tried to focus on the here and now, which he’d found was a pretty good way to live. However the more he considered this child, the more he realized that his son would be his legacy; more than memories, more than institutions, more than lines in a history text. It was his personal link to the future.

Reaching down to smooth the damp curls away from her face, he thought again about his initial decision. He'd never told her what he had said to Stephen, when he had first learned of her pregnancy: that he would choose her over the baby. He’d known she would never approve. Now the anxious waiting was almost over. Soon enough there would be other worries, but the possibility of that irrevocable decision would be behind him. He'd been determined to be her advocate during the pregnancy, as she was focused on the baby. At each twist and turn, he'd considered his options, made his choices, then waited on events. Luckily, the ultimate choice had never come up. His job had been to support her through this process; to make it as easy for her as he could without stepping all over her own decisions regarding her life and work. It was a bit of a tightrope to walk, but she seemed happy with how he had handled it.

She stirred in her sleep, and her hand drifted down his body. He drew in his breath sharply as her slender fingers trailed down his chest, then caressed the soft fabric of his briefs, finally moving across his groin, and down his thigh. He shifted away from her wandering touch, and let out a sigh of relief as she returned her hand to his shoulder. Trying to give her some room, he carefully moved further to his side of the bed, but she simply followed. Her breathing changed, coming quicker and lighter against his bare chest, and looking down at her again, he saw her eyes were open, and she was watching him.

“You are awake,” she said.

“Yes, I am. So are you.” He took the opportunity to extricate his arm from under her, stretching it out, and sighing in relief as it tingled with returning feeling. “You should be asleep.”

She lifted herself up on one elbow, and looked at him carefully, “You are worrying again.”

“I am not. I did my worrying earlier; I’m all done. Everything is under control.”

Laughing softly, she replied, “Oh yes, I can see that. Your clothes are laid out on the chair, in case you have to dress quickly. The emergency link you set up with the healers is on the nightstand, near to hand. You have packed a small bag, I also noticed.”

He answered with some chagrin, “I just want to be ready.”

“You would be more ready if you were rested. Have you tried counting…oh, what are those animals your people count? The ones with the fluffy white coats?”

“Sheep?”

“Yes, that’s it. Try counting sheep.”

He smiled, as a memory came back to him, and he said, “That reminds me of something my mother used to do to get me to sleep.”

“What?”

“It was a song. A lullaby she used to sing. It’s very old-fashioned.”

“The best lullabies are, I would imagine. Sing it to me.”

“What?” He stared at her in consternation, “I’m no singer, Delenn. Besides I barely remember the words.”

She answered seriously, “Children always love their parent’s singing voice, no matter how awkward and tuneless it may seem to another adult. Sing it to me, please?" She added enticingly, "It may help me to sleep.”

Laughing, he said, “You really don’t fight fair, do you? All right, but you’ll regret it.” He thought for a moment, then half-sang, half-recited, in a low husky voice, “When I'm worried and I can't sleep, I count my blessings instead of sheep. And I fall asleep, counting my blessings…" His voice broke off, "I can’t remember the rest, honestly!”

She smiled tenderly, and said, “It’s lovely. You will have to find the rest of the words somehow. Perhaps your mother will remember, or your father, or Elizabeth. It is a good song, and good advice as well.”

There was a soft chiming from the other room. John groaned, and got out of bed, realizing he wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight. Pulling on a robe, he went to answer the incoming call.

"Who is it?"

He heard her voice floating out of the bedroom. Absently he wondered if he could get her to go back to sleep; a broken rest period would be better than an abbreviated one. He called back to her as he severed the connection, “It was a message from Stephen’s ship. It’ll be docking within the hour. I told you he’d come if I asked him nicely.”

“You bullied the poor man into it. Honestly, John, it’s a baby, not anything demanding the attention of the Chief of Xenobiology at EarthDome…” Her voice broke off.

He said cheerfully as he re-entered the bedroom, “He wanted to come! He was just looking for an excuse…” The sounds he heard stopped him cold. “Delenn? What’s wrong?”

She was sitting upright in bed, clutching the bedclothes, gasping for breath. “It would seem that Stephen is arriving just in time.” Ripples moved visibly across her taut abdomen, as she braced herself against the waves of pain.

John stood frozen for a moment, his mind locked in disbelief. “What?” he said, trying to comprehend what was happening. Then the world started turning again, and he went into emergency mode. He attempted to reassure Delenn, as he sought, found, and activated the link. Barking commands to the on-call medical staff on the other end of the link, he simultaneously began throwing on his clothes. He paused a moment to cradle his wife's head in his hands, kissing her fervently on the forehead and declaring, “I love you.” Then he headed towards the door to open it for the medical team, who were already there requesting admittance. Grinning widely in anticipation and excitement, he realized he would soon have another blessing to count.

 

 

_**Count Your Blessings (Irving Berlin)** _

 

_When I'm worried and I can't sleep  
I count my blessings instead of sheep_

_And I fall asleep counting my blessings_

_When my bankroll is getting small_  
I think of when I had none at all  
And I fall asleep counting my blessings  
  
I think about a nursery and I picture curly heads  
And one by one I count them as they slumber in their beds  
If you're worried and you can't sleep  
Just count your blessings instead of sheep  
And you'll fall asleep counting your blessings

 


End file.
